


a spy in the house of love

by Writeous



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [3]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Gen, Greek Mythology References, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2020-03-06 06:12:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18845263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writeous/pseuds/Writeous
Summary: Percy Jackson is the heir of one of the world's most powerful crime families, and Annabeth Chase has been assigned to go undercover as his bodyguard. She can totally fool him into trusting her, right?





	a spy in the house of love

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this way back in 2016 and found it while going through my old wips. Originally was gonna be part of a multi-chap but stands alone.

Annabeth shifted uncomfortably in her seat, unable to relax into the soft leather. Jackson raised an eyebrow at her as he reclined into his own chair. “Have you ever been in a private jet before, Bella?” he asked, and despite his smooth tone, she still picked out the slight hitch in his voice as he said it. His nails were digging into the arms of his chair, and she could see the stiff lines of his shoulders underneath the tuxedo he’d worn to the gala.

“No,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “I didn’t come from the richest of families, and besides, I never really was a fan of air travel anyway,” After a moment, she added, “But I take it you don’t really enjoy it, either.”

Jackson paused, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her. Annabeth bit her lip, wondering if she’d overstepped her boundaries. “You’re observant,” he finally said, and she was relieved to see the small smile on his face, “and you’re right.” He rolled his shoulders. “I’ve never been a fan of flying at all, to be honest,” he shrugged, “Runs in the family, I guess. But, you know, desperate times.”

Annabeth filed the last part away to examine later, instead choosing to ask: “‘Runs in the family?’”

Jackson hummed in agreement. “Yeah,” he said, hesitating slightly before saying his next words. “See, my mom’s parents died in a plane wreck, and my siblings and Dad always preferred water.”

“Siblings?” Annabeth asked, genuinely surprised. As far as she was aware, Jackson was Poseidon’s only heir. The file she’d been given had never mentioned Jackson having any siblings, neither older nor younger.

“Oh, yeah,” Jackson laughed. His voice dropped to a stage whisper. “I really shouldn’t be telling you this, Bella, 'cause it’s supposed to be kinda on the down-low, but Dad had a lot of affairs. I’ve got, like, dozens of illegitimate half-siblings. Theo, Kym, Tyson,” his expression softened on the last one. He waved his hand haphazardly, “They’re all over the world.” He frowned. “I stopped keeping in touch with most of them ever since Tony tried to kill me.”

“Ah,” Annabeth said, slightly unnerved about how Jackson casually referred to his own brother trying to murder him. She was almost embarrassed about how Intelligence had never found out about that assassination attempt, or the fact that they’d failed to even hear about all of Poseidon’s children.

“'Course, Tony’s dead now, so I don’t really have much to worry about anymore, do I?” Jackson undid his tie, letting it fall haphazardly around his neck. “Champagne, Bella?”

“Um, sure,” Annabeth replied, accepting the delicate goblet that was probably worth more than she made in a year.

Jackson raised his own glass, grinning at her. “A toast to you, Bella, as gratitude for saving my life.”

Annabeth blushed. “It was nothing, really,” she said, sipping from her champagne. She said after a pause, “Percy, I was thinking,” she stopped to clear her throat, and then clear it again, “about … how …” her words were slurring, vision going blurry. She was slow to come to the realization, “You-” her voice was barely recognizable. She tried to clear her head enough to remember what Leo had said whilst pressing a small tin of Altoids into her hand. _“If you think you’ve been poisoned, chew one of these. Disgusting, but effective.”_

Annabeth tried to reach into her purse, but her shaking hand barely managed to brush across the cool metal before she slumped forward.

* * *

 

“Annie. Annie. Annnnnie. Come on, wakey wakey now.” Annabeth stirred. Her head felt like it had been stuffed with wet cotton, and her mouth felt full of mothballs. She was vaguely aware of something cold on her wrists. “Annabeth,” the voice came again, too loud. After a few moments, she was able to identify it as Jackson’s. “Rise and shine, Annabeth.”

The use of her real name was enough to make her finally blink her eyes open. She squinted against the jet’s harsh light as she raised her head. Jackson was sitting directly in front of her now, turning the chair around to face her completely. Three heavily armed guards stood behind him. Jackson gave her a superficial grin. “Glad you’re back to the land of the living,” he shrugged, “for now, anyway.”

Annabeth said, dumbly, “You poisoned me.”

Jackson shook his head in faux amazement. “The girl’s a genius, honestly.” He had shed the tuxedo jacket, instead wearing only the crisp undershirt. He’d rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, and something was dangling from his long fingers. After a moment, she was able to identify it as her purse. She felt sick, but whether it was after effects of the poison or the feeling of her own failure, she didn’t know. Jackson continued, “I may or may not have mentioned earlier that I have a few,” he paused, shifting his jaw, “trust issues, so I may or may not have slipped something into your drink.” He shook his head. “For a secret agent, you sure are gullible.”

Annabeth opened her mouth to say something, except nothing came out. For someone whose forte was words, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Jackson reached into Annabeth’s purse and pulled out the box of Altoids. “You know,” he said conversationally, “I’ve never seen someone go for breath mints after they’ve been drugged. But, well,” he flipped open the case to show her the message on the inside of the lid.

' _Good luck, Annabeth! Always knew you’d do better in the field than you would behind a desk! :)_ ’

Annabeth bit back a scream. When she inevitably died within the next few minutes, she was totally going to come back as a ghost to haunt the crap out of Piper.

Jackson closed the tin and delicately set it to the side. “Also,” he said, pulling out a thin tube of lipstick. He opened it and began twisting until a small metal hole was revealed. “Lipstick gun,” he laughed, tracing the trigger button with his finger. “Classic.”

Jackson handed the purse to one of the guards behind him, his eyes never leaving Annabeth’s. He gave her a crooked smile. “Anything else?” he asked, tenting his fingers as he scanned her. Annabeth shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, but found herself restricted by the handcuffs on her wrists. She grit her teeth.

Jackson noticed her frustration. “You weren’t out for long, if that’s what you’re wondering. Only about an hour or so. Just enough time for us to look through all of your belongings, decide if you were 'trustworthy’ enough,” he put up air quotes around the word, “and, let me just say, princess, that you failed that test spectacularly.” His eyes fixed on something just above her line of sight. “Now, what are these?” he reached forward to pull something out of her hair. Annabeth’s curls fell from their intricate position on top of her head to instead tumble around her shoulders.

Jackson held out the two silver chopsticks. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Fashion statement, or-”

Without warning, he reared back his hand and let one of the chopsticks fly in a perfect arc. Annabeth flinched as the blade slashed straight through the ear of a blond guard before getting stuck with a thud in the airplane wall. Jackson watched dispassionately as the guard collapsed.

“Weapon of mass destruction it is,” Jackson said. He leaned towards her, and without the smile, Annabeth could tell from the sharp lines of his body and predatory expression that Jackson, however different he may seem, was really the son of Poseidon. “Now, I like you, Annabeth,” he said, his voice low and gravely, “so I’m giving you a chance to tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

Annabeth swallowed, thinking fast. She took a deep breath and said, “You’re right. I lied to you, and I’m sorry about that. I wanted to tell earlier, but, I,” this was going to backfire in so many different ways, she could already tell, “I couldn’t. I was sent to shadow you by your father.”

Jackson raised an eyebrow. “My father,” he repeated, unconvinced, “sent you to what, be my bodyguard? You?” He gestured at the men surrounding them. “I think I’ve got a handle on the bodyguard department, don’t you think?”

“If it weren’t for me, you’d currently be lying dead next to all of your guts on a Barcelona ballroom floor,” Annabeth shot back. “I didn’t exactly see the rest of your 'bodyguards’ notice that you were about to be poisoned.”

Jackson nodded. “And for that, their fate is sealed,” he said. “But how can I believe that my father, the man who single-handedly took control of the majority of the world’s black market trade, would send someone like, well, like you, to protect me?”

Annabeth closed her eyes for a moment to steel herself before saying, “Because for some godforsaken reason, your mother trusted me.”

“My mother?” Jackson said incredulously, and Annabeth remembered reading in his file about the death of Sally Jackson, about how close the two of them had been. “What does my mother have to do with any of this? Why you, of all people?”

Annabeth prayed to whoever was listening that her memory hadn’t failed her after all of these years. “Because,” she said, trying to sound more confident than she was, “when I was twelve, I saved your life. You were mugged by this group of huge guys and there was,” she swallowed, “there was a lot of blood everywhere. No one else was near, and I couldn’t just stand there, so I, um,” she bit her lip. She’d never had to tell this story before. The people who’d hired her had always seemed to just know it. “I killed two, knocked out three more. A couple ran off; I don’t know what happened to them. After everyone was down, I didn’t really know what to do, so I just called 911 and ran.” She shrugged, “People found out. Your parents did too. After that, I got hired to watch out for you, need be.”

“Need be?” Jackson asked, expression unreadable. “Then why have I never seen you before?”

“I’m good at what I do,” Annabeth didn’t miss a beat. The best lies were half-truths, she knew. “Besides, I never had to actually talk to you until a couple of hours ago.”

“Who wrote the note?”

Annabeth barely hesitated before saying, “My sister. It was the last thing ever wrote me. I try and keep it on me, you know, for her.”

“Bad idea, Annabeth. Sorry about your sister, but little things like that can blow your cover straight out of the water.” He looked at her for a moment more, and Annabeth was sure that he’d seen straight through her, admittedly, weak, lie. Finally, Jackson murmured, “I knew that wasn’t a dream. I knew it. That was you!”

Annabeth contained her sag of relief. “Yeah,” she said. “That was me.”

Jackson took something small and silver out of his pant pocket. He pressed it into one of her hands, and Annabeth turned it over, surprised to find it was a key. “I trust you can get yourself out of those,” Jackson said, eyes flitting down on the handcuffs. He stood, and Annabeth had to crane her neck to follow his movement. “But, Annabeth,” he said, with none of his earlier mirth, “if you make one wrong move, you are dead. Do you understand me?”

Annabeth swallowed. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Jackson repeated. He shot her a crooked grin and disappeared deeper into the plane.


End file.
